Anything Will Fit
by trecebo
Summary: Important intel must get out. Will Bobby make it in time? Falls during/after Things Change and before Cookie Monster in my STFBEye/GIJoe Au


**Anything Will Fit...**

A/N: Anything was originally published on the STFBEye fanfic website. It was part of a challenge that used axioms as the basis for the plot (What? Plot?) This particular one concerned a naked man. Yeah. It's PG. It also is the first time Mrs. Abernathy appears. More about her in the story. In my AU Stfbeye/GIJoe arc, it falls after **Things Chang**e and before **Cookie Monster.**

Credit: STFBEYE belongs to Paxson/Pebblehut. GIJoe belongs to Hasbro. Melinda belongs to me. My gator. Mine. As are the random assorteds. On with the show.

**Anything Will Fit a Naked Man**

Softly, he rolled toward the window, hoping to make his escape un-noticed. However, the creaking of the sash alerted them to his movement. Throwing caution to the wind, he stretched his long legs, using the sheer power of his quads to bust the frame out.

Shouts sounded behind him as he hit the ground running as fast as his lanky legs could go. They would be on him in minutes if he didn't gain some serious ground. _Gotta get outta here, Bobb-o, and quick like. _

He veered left toward the overgrown hedges, using the piston-like muscles of his legs to propel himself forward and over the greenery. Only one obstacle lay between him and freedom: the Wall.

Motor sounds reached his ears and blue eyes cut a glance to see where his pursuers were. Still at the clubhouse, they were gathering on golf carts and preparing to corral him. Groups of four were spacing out to try and flank him before he could reach the safety of the other side of the Wall.

Massive and pristine, the gray and white marble monolith loomed in front of him, nary a hand hold in sight. As they drew closer, Bobby attempted a straight up leap, scrabbling for purchase along the top of the Wall. No such luck. It was smooth, which, in itself, was surprising. Birds usually had some say in how well things aged. Apparently, their policy was "No Birds Allowed," either.

Sliding to the ground, Bobby grabbed a handful of turf and dirt, sprinting toward the closest pursuers. He tossed the grit into the driver's face, causing a great amount of cursing. The golf cart careened and spun, tossing off the back two passengers while the front one managed to hang on. The Aussie reached in and hauled the sputtering driver out, tossing him on his butt.

"Hey, you can't do that!" yelled the remaining passenger.

"Wanna bet?" came the reply, followed by a right cross to the jaw. Out went Loudmouth.

It took him precious seconds to figure out how the cart worked. Not only were cars in the US different, but golf carts a whole 'nuther species. With a lurch and a hop, he gunned the engine and proved to go a whopping fifteen miles an hour down the sidewalk path.

Behind him, three more carts formed up to follow, several of the riders shaking various clubs and yelling random insults about his mother. Bobby was tempted to stop and take them on, but the information he had gathered was of greater importance. He'd get them back later.

A sudden turn on the course sent him off the sidewalk and onto the greens. Much howling came from his pursuers. He thought he heard cries of "NoooOOOOoOoO!" but he couldn't be sure. At least, that was his story if anyone asked.

Water loomed ahead; he turned again to avoid the edge. One could never tell just where a crocodile might be lurking, but that seemed like a prime place. He breathed a sigh of relief as the wheels just cleared the border and gunned the cart once more. Aiming for the sand trap, he spun the wheel a hard right and dove off. Hot footing across the sand, he heard the men behind him. The trap was the largest on the course, its backside lined by a copse of trees. It would take them time to catch up with their quarry.

Grinning to himself, Bobby laughed as he watched them pull away. He whipped back to head for the trees and ran slam into the light pole that suddenly appeared between his eyes.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

"Ooooo, my head..." Blue eyes squinted at the harsh sunlight streaming through the lightly shaded windows. Not the regular glass and sash of before, but iron barred, fancy etched windows. "Ooooooo..."

He turned slightly, attempting to gaze out of the corner of his eye, but the throbbing between his brows put a stop to that.

"You want some ice?" A well-built man stood before him, holding an ice pack wrapped in a soft hand cloth.

"Yeah. Thanks, mate." Gingerly, Bobby applied the coolness to the knot on his forehead. "I didn't see that pole there."

"Most people don't," came the answering shrug.

"So, are you going to let me out?"

The man tilted his head, thinking about the question. "Should I? You ruined the eighth green, crashed a cart in to the biggest sand trap, and scared Melinda half to death. Should I?"

"Me...Melinda?" Sitting up slowly, one blue eye met the amused gaze of the other man.

"You Aussies avoid ponds like the plague, and for good reason..."

A wry grin twisted on the tanned face. "Ah. Melindy then. Gotcha."

In answer to the question, Bobby was beckoned to the mahogany desk. Pushed before him was a glass jar. "In here are several options. You pick one and using it, you may leave if you think you can make it all the way out."

The Aussie looked at the man. He didn't seem to be joking. Cobalt blue glass glowed in the sunlight as its contents whirled about. "I just pick a paper?"

Nodding, the man answered, "Yep."

"And I can leave?" It seemed too easy.

"Using the paper you pick, you may leave." A cryptic quip if ever he heard one.

Bobby wandered back to the window, moving the icepack to the side so he could see the grounds. He could see his best point of escape from here, but tactical training forced its way in, causing him to re-think. _I need to find a less obvious way out._ Taking a few more minutes, he formulated a new plan, mumbling to himself as he hashed out his steps.

"Ah-hem," coughed his captor.

"Oh, right. Pick a paper." He slid back to the desk and reached into the bowl.

"The one you pick is the one you have to use."

"You keep saying that."

He shrugged. "I'm just saying..."

Bobby blew out his breath and drew a slip of paper. He read it, incredulity flooding his features.

_Anything will fit a naked man..._

"Crikey." He handed the paper over.

"Wow. Haven't seen that one in while. Must've come in with the new batch." The man scratched his head. "Okay then. Off with your clothes."

"Seriously?"

"Either that or forfeit."

Bobby began removing his shoes and socks.

"The rule for this one is you have to stay in the buff until you reach the outside. You can pick up and use anything you want as long as you can wear it on your person."

By this time, the Aussie was almost bare. He smirked at his tormentor. "I'm not afraid of my skin, mate."

"Did I mention the Ladies Club Auxiliary meeting downstairs?"

A bit of color drained from his face, but he gamely held on.

"And that if you get caught, you have to stay buff until you reach the Wall?"

Still, he held on.

"And if you get caught twice, we throw you in Melinda's pond?"

Briefs had barely touched the floor as the door slammed behind him.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Blood pumping, the tall Aussie looked both ways, checking the hall for anything, ANYTHING that could be used for clothing. All the windows had those vertical blinds. He inched his way toward the stairs, checking every door, knowing that they would probably be locked. _Yep_. Locked tight.

Hoping for a break, he finally opened a door. _Yes!_ The bathroom. Frantically, he checked for towels, paper or cloth. _Nothing_. Just air dryers. In the stalls were those finagling bidets. No paper anywhere. Rounding the corner, he checked the showers. All stalls were glass. No curtains. He ran a hand through his hair. _I might be in trouble._

Hot footing it out into the hall, he moved from plant to plant. _What is it with Country Clubs and plants?_ The head of the staircase loomed, leading to the wide open foyer. Peeking over the rail, he spotted a coat rack with what appeared to be coats on it.

Just then, the front doors opened, admitting several elderly women with large garden hats and flower print dresses. One lady happened to look up, catching Bobby's eye.

Instinctively, he waved before remembering his state of undress. The older woman blushed and winked slyly back at him, causing a shudder. _Gram, mate, it's like your gram..._ The woman giggled, trotting along with her friends out of sight.

Taking a breath, he spied a floor mat under a large potted fern. With a bit of struggle, he wedged it loose. One last look over the railing and he flipped the mat onto the banister, then parked his bare butt on it, letting gravity take him for a ride. Right next to the coat rack, he landed only to find it wasn't coats. Rather, it was trash bags.

Wasting no time, he grabbed two and headed for the back door. The help would be a little less inclined to yell, seeing as they had to put up with the clientèle and all their weird habits. Through the kitchen he ran, the chef growling in French about crazy Americans and their awful ways.

Bobby grinned as he flipped a sign, calling him a "batty kookaburra."

The door was only feet away. From here, he could make it to the Wall and over, possibly beating whomever was on his trail. A loud crashing noise rose from behind him. The chef had bumped a waiter who had bumped a tray of glass and china. In moments, the management would descend upon the kitchen. The last thing they needed to see was a naked man.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

"You reckon he's made it out yet?"

The well-built man paused in his typing. "Do you see him?"

"No, but he's a bit unorthodox."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Leaning back in his chair, the man laced his fingers behind his head. "Besides, he doesn't know we aren't following yet. He'll make a mistake; we'll get him. We always do."

Scratching his head, the second man smoothed his jet brown hair. "I don't know, Lance. He seems...pretty out there."

"Yeah, you said that about Outback, too, Alvin. We caught him."

"After he had wrestled the gator from the pond."

"Your point?"

"Don't count your chickens?" Both men started as the phone rang.

Lance answered it. "Steinberg. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Well, we didn't do it. No. No, don't even think of telling the General. His mother is here. Right. Okay."

Replacing the handset in the cradle, he grinned. "Rodolfo is concerned that the chef has caused an accident due to our mischief. It seems one awful American went streaking through the kitchen."

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Bobby needed a better plan. Currently, he was stashed in a very small, tightly packed broom closet. And he didn't want to know what was poking him...anywhere. _Think, Bobb-o. They'll be coming to check soon; you don't want to get caught._ He really wanted to scratch his head, but dared not move. He heard voices close by.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

"Ze chef, 'e 'ez not amused by 'z running and crashing in 'ez precious keetchen," Rodolfo spoke haughtily, translating for the enraged cook.

Alvin raised his hands. "I know, I know. We'll find him and have 'security' take care of it. Now, where did you see him go?"

The two Frenchmen conferred, the language rolling of their tongues like music. It was only Rodolfo's attempt to relate it back that had both men biting their lips.

"Chef says 'e does not kneew whare 'z crazee Amerhican went."

The smaller, rotund cook threw up his hands. "Puuf!"

Lance had to turn completely away, actually stepping out of the kitchen area, toward the back door. Meanwhile, Alvin thanked the two staffers and joined his slightly purple friend.

"I just...*snort*...kept seeing...*snort*...Inspector Clouseau...saying 'ahmbarguer," choked the well-built man.

Alvin gave him a wry grin. "At least he didn't have to hear _you_ mangle French."

"Hey! I resemble that remark!" Lance leaned against the door frame, fingers tapping lightly on his leg. "He has to get outside before he can put anything on. I figure he'll head for the far greens. He was scoping that area before he left the room."

"Still think you are underestimating him," replied the other man.

"Come on. We'll give him five minutes and rally the troops. Bobby probably thinks we are hard on his trail. He'll make a mistake in his hurry. We'll catch him."

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Footsteps faded away. In the broom room, steel blue eyes glinted and a dimpled grin appeared. _That's it. All I have to do is step outside._ Edging out of the closet, he peeked to see the kitchen relatively empty. Clutching his trash sacks close, he made a dash to the outside exit, slamming the door open.

Planting both feet on the top step, Bobby hopped back into the building. He took a deep breath, and in a moment of inspiration, grabbed an apron. Voices approached and the Aussie spun, looking for possible escape routes. Deciding on a course of action, he began running for the side hallway that connected the kitchen to various dining areas.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

"Now, Mildred, don't go pulling our legs. Some of us can't even stand up," giggled a matronly lady.

Blushing a becoming pink, the woman in the purple hat gave a bemused smile. "I suppose, but he was a darling young man, even in his exposed state."

Several of the ladies fanned themselves just thinking about it. "'Tis a shame nothing interesting ever happens _during_ our meetings," sighed another.

Rose, who was in charge of the Ladies Auxiliary, frowned. "Should I take offense at that then, Aggie?"

"Oh, my no! I only meant that we never seem...to have...half...naked...men..." The lady trailed off suddenly, causing a small stir.

"Aggie? Are you all right? Aggie? Aggie!"

Her hand raised slowly, in the direction of the serving hallway, where stood a half-naked, dimple-clad, apron-wearing man.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Bobby had heard the ladies' voices as he advanced down the hall. With quick and efficient hands, he tied one of the trash sacks around his waist. It wasn't quiet long enough, leaving a revealing slit along his outer thigh. He pondered using the second one, but decided he needed a back up rather than a cover up. Slipping the apron strap over his head,

he tied it in back and eased his way to the entrance. A slow grin crept to his mouth as he watched the older lady become rather gob-smacked by his appearance.

"Ladies," he began in his most seductive tone. "I need your help."

He wasn't prepared as several of them swooned in their chairs. In a mad rush, he was lowering woman after woman to the floor, fanning them with the dropped fans.

"Crikey, Bobb-o, you done it this time," he mumbled to himself.

A strong hand grabbed his wrist and drew him down. "This is too much fun," came the delirious whisper.

Blue eyes bugged out. All around him, sighs were heard as the ladies helped each other to sit upright. Bobby found himself surrounded by fifteen women old enough to be his gram.

"Er, ladies?" He began to stand only to re-think and kneel so as not to provoke another episode.

Mildred laid a gentle hand on the young man's arm. "Son, while I'm sure we appreciate the show, could you explain yourself." Her tone required the truth.

"I'm...in...a training exercise," was as much as he could reveal. "I need to make it beyond the Wall without being caught."

"And you think we could help how?" Rose demanded.

He shrugged and grinned. "I figured you charming ladies, having raised sons and daughters, knew how to pull a fast one." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Aggie leaned in and patted his cheek. "Oh, yes. I've done a prank or two in my day." Her green eyes glinted with mischief. "You remind me of my dear Peter."

"Thank you, mum, I think." His gallant nature took over and he began helping the ladies to their feet, assisting those to chairs who needed it.

Mildred took charge, an authoritative air about her that few could withstand. "Rose, you go lock the door so no one comes in. Shirley, let's see your hat. I think it will be big enough. Dexie, you have on an over-jacket, yes? Let me have it, please. Lexa, yours as well. Anyone with spare hose in their purse?"

Several ladies searched, revealing six pair of tights in colors ranging from pastel to nude.

"Ah, good. Now, anyone with a spare hair piece? No? Oh well." Mildred turned to Bobby. "Hun, if you will entrust yourself to us, we can get you out of here, no one the wiser."

The Aussie looked around at the ladies, seeing smiles and an excitement much like he used to get going on assignment. "All right. I'm in your very capable hands, Mi'lady."

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Five minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. "Madames? 'Ez everything okaay?" Rodolfo's voice sounded concerned. Rose hastily stuffed the white apron in her purse while Aggie plunked down on one of the trash bags. Lexa hurried to the door, opening it to reveal the garçon surrounded by several large well-built men.

Turning on the charm, Lexa placed a hand on her chest. "Oh my, yes. We were just girl-talking and didn't want anyone to walk in on our...secrets." She blushed prettily.

Lance moved forward. "Ma'am, we'd like to check your room. It seems we had a streaker earlier; we want to make sure he doesn't come your way."

"Of course, gentlemen. Do come in. I can assure you, if we had seen..a streaker, did you say?"

The black-haired man nodded.

"Well, I never."

With precision and grace, the men spread out, checking all corners of the room. There was one close call, as Alvin wandered too close to a group of ladies busily discussing the merits of khakis versus slacks on the younger men. Ears burning, the brown headed man backed away, shaking his head in surprise.

At last, Lance deemed the room clean and the men bowed out, Rose locking the door behind them. Bobby peeked out from under the hat that had been plunked down on his head at the last moment.

"Ah, you lovelies should be working for the government." His grin was infectious. Laughter broke out causing the men outside to wonder what the joke was.

"Now, let's get you finished up before they decide to return."

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Several times over the course of the next forty minutes, the ladies were interrupted, barely concealing their handy-work before the security sweep marshaled in. Each time, Bobby breathed deeply when the guys left.

In stages, he had gained a pair of hose (that didn't quite make it up his long legs), a petticoat over-draped by a gorgeous over-jacket of lime green, a second over-jacket in a complementary floral pattern (reversed and worn rather tightly on his torso), an airy hand-crocheted shawl of delicate blue, and topped off with a delicate white garden-party hat with a smattering of lightest pink crepe myrtle and baby's breath. The ladies decided the purple hat didn't do him justice.

He had also gained a total facial make over. Each lady gave him a critical eye, knowing that on close inspection, he'd not pass for remotely female, but each also knew that the eye would see what it wanted to see. They wanted the world to see an elderly female in a wheelchair and that's what would be seen.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Upstairs, Lance pounded the desk, causing him to shake his fist in pain. "Dang it! Where is he?"

Alvin lay on the chaise-lounge, feet propped on the high end. "I told you he's unorthodox."

"Yeah, yeah, so you did. You got any bright ideas? We can't lose at this point. No new recruit has made it past the Wall."

"I think he might be in the building." The brown-haired man turned his head to glance at his friend.

"What? We've searched everywhere."

A shrug. "You asked me."

Lance sat in the big chair and drummed his fingers on the mahogany desktop. "It could be worth one more sweep." He reached for the radio.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

The Ladies' Auxiliary meeting let out, the women laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Rodolfo summoned the valets to begin bringing around the cars for the Madames. His solicitous nature was applied to each lady, most of whom he knew by name.

"Madame Dexcelia, most 'appy to see you, again. 'Ave a good day. Ah, Dame Agatha, you look..." he made the kissed fingers 'magnificent' gesture. "And my dear Lady Abernathy. 'Ow charming are you. And 'Oo 'ez thees?

Mildred patted her friend on the shoulder. "My dear Rodolfo, this is my precious sister, Matilda."

"Enchante, Madame."

The white hat nodded from its position in a wheel chair.

"She's not feeling well. I think we tired her out." Moving aside, Mildred whispered in the garçon's ear. "She fell and broke her hip doing a waltz. It's been quite the recovery. Today has been most delightful, but quite taxing, I believe."

The Frenchman nodded in sympathy. He patted the lady's hand softly. "Do get well soon, madame."

A silver luxury car pulled up. Mildred 'assisted' the wheelchair bound lady into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel. She was slipping the car into gear when a sudden influx of men converged on the front drive.

Bobby laid a restraining hand on her arm. "Don't pull away. It will tip them off."

Mildred nodded just as there was a knock on her window. Zipping it down, she smiled at the younger man before her. "Lance, dear. Is there something wrong?"

He gestured for two men toward the rear of the car. "We are still looking for the streaker, Mrs. Abernathy. Could you pop the trunk?"

"Certainly."

In a moment he was back, grinning. "All clear, ma'am. You and your..."

"Sister," she supplied.

"...sister have a good rest of the day."

Mildred slipped the car into drive and pulled out.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

Alvin came running up as the silver auto disappeared. "We have a head count problem."

Lance glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The roster for the Ladies' Auxiliary was for fifteen but Rodolfo counted sixteen coming out. Who was in that car?"

"The General's mother and her sister."

Alvin rolled his eyes. "You dolt! The General doesn't have any aunts!" He palmed his radio. "Have the front gate closed now!"

**stfbeye/gijoe**

The wrought iron gates were lumbering to a close before them.

"Mi'lady, I don't want you to get into trouble," murmured Bobby.

"Nonsense! I've been itching for some action, and this has been fun." So saying, Mildred pressed on the accelerator, moving the car forward at a greater rate than the gates' swing. A couple of the Country Clubs security guards made a futile attempt to flag her down, but mind set, the gray-haired lady gunned past them and out to freedom.

Bobby relaxed his white knuckled grip on the door.

"Don't tell me you've never done that before, young man."

He grinned at her, looking rather rakish in his raspberry lipstick. "Aye, Mi'lady, but never done with so much class."

Mildred pinched his cheek. "My son used to let me do all sorts of fun things. Now days, he is such a fuddy. I like you, Bobby. I've had a great deal of fun today, thanks to you."

"I'd say no problem to that...only you'd better slow down, Mi'lady."

"Why?"

The flash of lights and the blare of a siren answered her question.

**stfbeye/gijoe**

"Now, Sergeant, this is my son. He's such a good boy, my Clayton. Do you know him?"

The trooper paled as he put the name to the picture being flashed before him. "Why, yes, ma'am. I do."

"And here is my grandson..much like his father, I think." She smiled up at him. "So, do I need to get out of the car?"

"No, ma'am. I believe you are who you say you are. I will have to issue a warning." Inwardly, his heart dropped, knowing that the General would have his hide.

"Why, of course. I'd be delighted. I was breaking the law. Are you sure you don't want to give me a ticket?" She whispered to Bobby, who was trying not to laugh. "I think going to the courthouse would be something new to do, don't you?"

The trooper finished his notations and handed Mildred the paper. "Please pay more attention next time, Mrs. Abernathy. I'd hate for anything to happen to you." _Please, please, please.._.

"I will. And I'll tell Clayton what a fine job you did, too, Sgt. Welsh." She rolled up the window and slowly pulled away, leaving the poor man to staring after her.

Bobby was nearly in tears by this time, his mascara running down his face. "Mi'lady, you are really something."

She reached over and patted him on the knee. "Like I told you, it's been fun for a change. Now, where can I drop you off?"

**stfbeye/gijoe**

It had been awhile since he'd been to his DC apartment. Being on assignment to another department kept him too busy check on the place. But now, he was glad that he'd been able to come here first and change.

Mildred had helped him out of the car, keeping an eye on passers-by and watching his six. Those stairs were rather hard to climb as hampered as he was by the hose on his legs. He wondered then and even now, how no one had noticed he wasn't wearing shoes.

A quick shower and he slid into his spare workout togs, towel draped over his shoulders. Going out into the living area, he smiled as Mildred was tinkering in his kitchen.

"Mi'lady, I don't think there's much here..."

She waved him off. "Nonsense. I found some tea and sugar and we shall have a bit of a repast before you go back to work. Come, sit down."

He joined her at the table, grateful to be able to stretch his long legs. Tea was poured and served, the Aussie reminded of his step-dad's gram.

Her crystal blue eyes twinkled over the rim of the cup. "I recognize that look, my boy. I should hope I'm a fair bit more spry than any grandmother you might be thinking about."

A thousand watts lit up the room. "To be sure, and you are, Mi'lady." He raised his tea cup to her. "To many years of action for you, with class and grace."

"Hear, hear." Mildred sipped her drink slowly, observing the man before her. It wasn't lust that had driven her day but rather, the zest for life that he seemed to exude. Addictive, attractive, she was tired of feeling useless and this young man had let her be useful. "Do you need a ride to the base?"

"Too right, but I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Nonsense. I know a few strings I can pull."

He drained his cup and smiled. "All right, then. I'll get my boots and we'll be off."

**stfbeye/gijoe**

The silver luxury car pulled up to the sentry post. "Greetings, Mrs. Abernathy. The General is expecting you." He waved them through.

"Oh, my. Maybe I should be worried about you getting into trouble, Bobby."

"Wouldn't be the first time, Mi'lady.

Lance was waiting in the foyer. "Nice duds, there, Crash, but olive drab is so not your color. More like...lime green?"

Mildred nodded. "Only because the skirt was away from your handsome face." She patted his cheek. "Is the General in?"

"Yes, ma'am. Go right in." He followed them, Alvin close behind. Within the office stood sixteen more men, all standing roughly at ease.

The General came to greet his mother. "I should have known you'd be in this mix somewhere."

"Really, Clayton. Can't a woman have_ some_ fun on her day out?"

Silver brows rose in amusement. "Yes, but did it have to involve my men?"

Mildred smiled as he offered her a chair. "What was I supposed to do? A knight in need of a damsel came asking for help."

Beside them, Bobby stood at attention. Releasing the chair, Gen. Abernathy barked, "At ease, Crash," before returning to his desk. He stared at the Aussie a moment. "I have one thing to ask: did you get the Intel?"

"Yes, sir. Tee time: Thursday, 09:45."

"Thank you. You don't know how many times I have missed that particular tee off because my intelligence gatherer never returned in time." Ice blues gazed at each man. "Right now, you think it's funny there are pictures of Crash in drag. I concur. Quite amusing. What I don't find so amusing, is the fact that _you all_ missed him."

He handed Lance a DVD, ordered him to take the squad to the media room, and note every missed detail. The men filed out, Bobby falling line. "Wait, Manning." Once the door closed, the General gave a lazy grin. "Nice thinking. Using resources on hand."

"Thank you, sir."

"I never thought I'd see the day when someone would make it with the bare-naked, Ladies approach."

"Clayton!"

"Don't let her fool you, son. She's been amongst many of this unit's shenanigans. Half of them don't even realize it. You did good, Mom."

"Thank you."

"Now, Crash, off to chow. Debrief at 18:30."

Bobby rose to take his leave, but the General's voice stopped him.

"I think your work togs could be adjusted to your new color scheme."

Biting back a grimace, he croaked "Aye, sir," and tried to exit.

"One more thing. If you ever flash my mother again, you'll be court-martialed. Dismissed."

He closed the door and shook his head, knowing that he'd never live this down.


End file.
